


dauger

by yonderdarling



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, DVD Commentary, F/M, First Time, Oral Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Prompt Fill, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, i know what i'm about lads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:46:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23152705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yonderdarling/pseuds/yonderdarling
Summary: She's got a sore head. She means to text Martha. She's a doctor, too. She texts O.
Relationships: Doctor/Master, The Doctor/The Master, The Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor/Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 222





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [craftysquidz](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=craftysquidz), [the_one_in_which_the_filth_dwells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_in_which_the_filth_dwells/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Texting a Friend](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22280551) by [zaffrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaffrin/pseuds/zaffrin). 



> Requested by craftysquidz on tumblr, who was inspired by the fic "Texting a Friend" by spoilersweetie, or more specifically a line in the fic: "Basically, the Master replies to one of 13’s texts with “I can still be him if you want me to be baby” when she thinks bc of timey wimey the text might have gotten to him at a time before the reveal. Ever since I read it I’ve had the thought stuck in my head: what if she asked him to pretend to be O, just for a night?"
> 
> There's a bit more to it than that, but that's all y'all need to know.
> 
> Meloartist also did a lovely piece of art for this fic, which can be seen on their blog here: https://meloartist.tumblr.com/post/615891499287281664/nicolauda-has-been-one-of-my-favorite-doctor-who

Here is the first time she meets O - well, technically. He, meets O. Should she start using they/them pronouns? She likes she/her for this body. She likes being a lady, all the henna and the hair and the soft way other ladies (who think she’s human) treat her now, and the secret looks and smiles when men are being. Men. In public. Anyway. Men are the worst, except when they’re wonderful and kind, like Ryan and Graham and Jack and so many others —   
  
She hasn’t been sleeping. Where was she?  
  
O, when they met, was in a suit jacket a little too big for him, his hair flopping over his forehead and his fingers furiously typing on a keyboard where the letters were worn away. He had a little toy robot sticker on his laptop, and he had a cold cup of tea by his elbow. They’d met in a cafe briefly, when a UNIT advisor (Captain Trent? Trentham?) had dragged him and Martha through to get a coffee before a briefing because of an invasion or some aliens or something. UNIT’s always been hard for him (her?) to keep track of, date wise.

Where exactly was she? She’s a bit overtired. Been hit on the head. Sent the fam off home because they were having a fuss. 

Anyway. O. When they met. Flustered, wonderful O, who noticed the Doctor had a very fast pulse when they shook hands, and asked very quickly, his voice low and excited and his eyes flashing with something like joy - “you’re not human, are you?” And he’d pointed O in the direction of UNIT, and aliens, and the skies above, and —

Her head really hurts.

She means to text Ryan, or Yaz, or Graham or hell, Martha, she’s a doctor too, but somehow she sends it (it being “coconut very cooked, need assist”) off to the number that’s still in her stupid phone as stupid “O” with a little purple octopus that O had put in there, purple, the Master’s favourite colour of their last two regenerations. He’d been laying little hints since day 0 …. Day zero.

Anyway. Stupid O, who wasn’t stupid, who was lovely and wonderful and sweet, and had kissed her (when she’d had pointy hair and a stripy suit), sweet and clumsy, after the alien incursion (not invasion) was over, when they’d walked back to his flat together. O had told the Doctor, he was gay and his parents had found out and kicked him out (disapproval by the family and isolation from one’s culture, that’s a double whammy that the Doctor would swallow every time. She - and especially her Tenth body - knew better than anyone how that felt). 

And O had invited her (him) he’d invited the Doctor inside and they’d had the most wonderful, clumsy, human sex she’d had in a long time. O had been awkward and called the Doctor “baby” (“I just like it, I know it’s weird,” O had said, with that cute smile, dipping his head to hide it) and tripped getting his pants off, made jokes and made the Doctor laugh and then made him shout and howl. 

Her head really hurts, and there’s a pain in her chest now, too. 

“Sorry,” she types in another text. “Not meant for you. Obviously.” Then again, he’s meant to have died on Gallifrey. 

She sincerely doubts from simply…existing in the universe with the Master, that that is possible. 

She should really delete that number. She opens that menu option, stares at the stupid fucking purple octopus and deletes O’s name, and renames it as….as…

The phone vibrates in her hand. 

> NEW TEXT FROM O: I can still be him if you want me to be baby

Her head really hurts. Her thumb moves, and she sends him the time-space coordinates of a deserted moon that orbits a fragment of Jupiter. His TARDIS is there when she arrives. The Master enters, and he does little other than check her pupils and pulses and announce he’s satisfied her brain isn’t going to come out of her nose.   
  
“When did you last sleep?” he asks, as the Doctor ignores him, walking out of the console room. “Doctor?”  
  
“It’s been a while,” she snaps  
  
“I told you you were the Timeless Child. It doesn’t mean you have to act like a literal kid,” the Master says, and his face twists, and he sends her to bed.

*** * ***

She wakes up and she’s still small and blonde and still herself, so that’s a win. Her head no longer hurts, but there’s still a pain in her chest which is explained when she looks left and sees the Master sitting beside her bed on an Eames chair he’s dragged in (wanker), leafing through a _Clangers_ storybook.  
  
“Do they ever explain the breeding process?” He asks. “One must assume it’s some kind of binary fission - “  
  
“Why are you still here?”  
  
“Checking you’re okay,” he says. “A universe without you toddling about would be a dull one indeed.”  
  
“You’ve said that before.”  
  
“More or less.”  
  
“I didn’t mean to text you,” the Doctor says. She pulls back the covers and stands quickly, wobbling. The Master stands with her, leaving his book open on the chair’s arm to mark the pages. “I was going to text Martha. Your number was below it.”  
  
The Master sneers. “I’m still in there as O?”  
  
“Not any more.”  
  
“Funny,” he says, and holds up her phone. It’s unlocked, because of course. “Because I seem to be.”  
  
“Give that back!”  
  
“Or, O, Octopus. Or perhaps. Ooctopus. Oh-ctopus.” The Master looks at the phone again. “You need to change your password. The thirtieth, one-hundredth, fourth and one-thousandth digits of pi? Far too easy for you. Slipping.”  
  
The Doctor sits on the bed again. “Are you going to - “  
  
Wordlessly, the Master drops the phone onto her rumpled bedsheets. “You were asleep for fifteen hours. Go have a wash, I’m going to make you a cup of tea and then I’ll be on my merry way.”  
  
“…I don’t take it with milk anymore.”  
  
“Same goes with your men and humans, apparently,” the Master says as he leaves the room.  
  
She does go and wash her face, and brush her teeth because it feels like something’s growing on her molars, and then she changes her shirt (blue to maroon, why not) and is examining her tangled collection of suspenders when the Master lets himself back in with two cups of tea and a plate of custard creams. He sets the tray on the bedside table and sits back in the Eames, with the air of someone not about to be on their merry way.   
  
The pair drink and eat in silence, the Doctor wishing she had her book (this week it’s the the Collected Dorothy Parker) but scrolling through her phone instead. Resolutely not looking at the Master, she finds herself opening up her and O’s old text chain, skimming as she scrolls backwards, across nine years for him (earth time) and literal centuries for her, even if she’d dropped off the radar for a couple of decades here and there. Small bits of conversation jump out of her as she reads back in time.   
  


> O: Have you seen that old show Taking over the Asylum? Very good. Needed a palate cleanser after crying my eyes out during the Broadchurch s1 finale.
> 
>   
>  O: Finally taken your suggestion and am reading Good Omens, really enjoying it, esp the relationship between Az and C ☺  
>  The Doctor: Just wait till you see the adaptation. Love John Ham, Jon Ham? Jon Bacon.
> 
>   
>  O: Getting some queer history books out. Did you ever meet Christopher Isherwood, he seems very interesting? You should go meet him.
> 
>   
>  The Doctor: If you get this in 2007 be sure to catch Absurdia at the Donmar Warehouse v good, good choctops   
>  O: Missed it by three years, ten months but thank you for the thought ☺
> 
>   
>  The Doctor: I just went and caught up with Christopher and he’s v glad you liked his biography. Have you spoken with your parents?  
>  O: They don’t want anything to do with me, but that’s alright. I’ve got work and so on.   
>  O: It’s okay, I’ll keep on keeping on.  
>  O: Besides, C is….like the worst uncle I never wanted so that’s something like family haha. You’ll hate him when you meet him.  
>  O: If. I don’t want you to feel obligated to come here haha  
>  O: Hate is a strong word, more like…understand my feelings towards him  
>    
> 
> 
> The Doctor: The dismissal of the Australian Prime Minister!! Was aiming for Woodstock but hey!!  
>  O: I got this in 2015 they’re still on that Tony man as far as I know? He ate an onion?  
>  The Doctor: [attached image]  
>  O: I have no idea who that is  
>  The Doctor: [attached image]  
>  O: I don’t know who that is but it looks like you’re in the 1970s and they definitely did not have selfies in the 1970s  
>  O: Is that a fez? ☺ looking very handsome haha  
>    
> 

The Master, not looking up from his book, puts his teacup down. “Do you miss him?”  
  
She tosses the phone aside. “Who?”  
  
“You know.” The Master sweeps his hair away from his forehead, moves his mouth slightly so his face is just…different. “O?”  
  
“Can’t miss someone who never existed.”  
  
“Ah yes, like your first girlfriend in the Academy.”  
  
She scoffs. “I thought you were leaving.”  
  
“I thought you were ill, turns out you just needed to get your head down.”  
  
“More reason for you to go, then. Go on,” the Doctor says.”You put your feet down, on the floor and get moving.”  
  
“Now I think on it, I was probably your first girlfriend at the Academy.”  
  
She ignores him.   
  
“Well, boyfriend. Fifteen to nineteen, thirty-two to thirty-three, thirty-five to forty-seven, sixty-nine to ninety-six, then there was those six months we were interning at the Capitol in our centurteens and just fucking like rabbits even though I was engaged to whatsherface - “ he picks up the _Clangers_. “Remember when I was sucking you off on that old…chaise lounge or whatever of Rassilon, and your brother came in?”  
  
The Doctor does look at him at that, eyes wide. “What?”  
  
“You don’t rem - you were pretty far gone, actually, when we were both so young and full of vim and vigour. And. Well. I’ve always been good with my tongue.”  
  
The thing is, that sounds exactly like what she remembers of that incredibly dull internship, if the specifics are fuzzy to her. She’s had dozens of love affairs over her lifetimes; her first wife, Rose, River, Romana, why does she only ever fall in love with people whose names begin with R? In comparison, the Master has rarely, if ever, loved anyone but her. Of course it’s clearer to him. For most of his lives, she’s been all he’s had; there was his daughter, but she’s long gone now, even before the Time War.   
  
“You’re staring at me. So,” says the Master, putting the Clangers aside again, raising his eyebrows at her. “Do you miss him?”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“O.”  
  
“Yes. Yes, I do, you know I do. You designed him to be the perfect bait for me,” says the Doctor, and puts her tea down with a loud thunk on the bedside table. “He was so sweet and smart and kind, and you are - “  
  
“I’m not smart?”  
  
“Oh - “  
  
“Yes?”  
  
The Master gives her that look again, where his eyes become softer and kinder, his smile less manic and simply marvellous, and he settles into his chair like he’s going to curl up with a vintage Gameboy and a good mug of tea.   
  
“How do you do that?” she murmurs.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Change - yourself, like that? I’ve never been able to do that.”  
  
“Doctor, if there’s one thing you can’t do,” the Master-and-O says, “It’s hide your true nature. You’re too - well, you’re so you, all the time. It’s simultaneously delicious and infuriating.”  
  
“Could you?”  
  
“Could I what?”   
  
The Master drops the act, and he’s himself again. He watches her as she shifts, swinging her legs over the side of the bed so their knees are basically touching.   
  
“Could you - “  
  
His lips part as he realises, his dark eyes dropping briefly to her phone. “I can still be him if you want me to, baby,” he says, slowly, and the Doctor swallows, her throat dry. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you. Remember when I fucked you? God, it was glorious. I was out there becoming Prime Minister and waiting for you, and I was in the Vault with you watching over me and you were in bed with me at the same time. Three Masters, two Doctors, all in one country on one day. It was delicious. That body of yours, so lanky. I could have gotten a paper cut if I wasn’t careful.”  
  
“I remember - “ the Doctor says slowly. “I remember O telling me that this kind of thing didn’t happen for him, that I made him feel special, that I - “  
  
“O said a lot of things,” says the Master, and he stands, brushing past her as he moved round to the corner of the room. He slips off his stupid purple jacket and hangs it in her wardrobe by her own coat - “I hung that up for you,” he adds, when he sees her expression. “It didn’t teleport. And yes, if you were wondering, I do tailor-make them for you sometimes. It’s all in the eyes, the wonderment. You can’t resist someone who thinks you hung the bloody moon.” He keeps pacing, unbuttoning his waistcoat, rolling up his shirtsleeves. “You love a scientist,” he says. “You love someone with passion, and you love those who protect. You love all the parts of yourself that you see in other people, but you don’t see yourself the same way.”  
  
He turns, his top shirt button also undone in just the way O used to wear it. Ah.   
  
“So, Doctor,” the Master says, with a flourish, pushing his hair back into the neat swoop O had. “I can still be that man if you’d like me to be. For tonight.”  
  
She can’t think of anything to say except, “I thought it was about four-thirty.”  
  
“Yes, local time.”  
  
“Local time, yes.”  
  
The Master sits on the bed beside her, their thighs centimetres apart, and O looks at her, and his face is somehow calmer, smoother, his eyes kinder. He looks at her lips, then at her eyes.  
  
“I’ve never been with a woman before,” he says, his voice smoother, human, more timid. It’s O’s voice. His hand shakes almost imperceptibly as he reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear. “But I think - with you, Doctor, I could - I don’t mind.”  
  
“You don’t mind?”  
  
“I don’t mind at all,” O says, and kisses her.   
  
It’s soft, tender, just the way it had been a hundred, four hundred-odd years ago when O had stood on the step above the one she’d (he’d) been standing on, brushed one thumb along the line of her jaw. The Master - O - trails that hand down her neck (throat) and presses it against her sternum, between her hearts (“My heart is maintained by the - “)  
  
“God, you’re wonderful,” says O, and the Doctor finds herself kissing him back, running her hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands against her fingers. “Doctor?”  
  
“Mm?”  
  
“It’s not weird, when it’s you.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
The Doctor makes up her mind (which has been blank) and shifts, swinging around so she’s in O’s lap facing him, her thighs on either side of his hips. He drops his warm hands to her waist, runs his thumbs along the lines of her suspenders.  
  
“I don’t even know where to start,” he says, and laughs.  
  
The laugh is a mix of the Master and of O, and she doesn’t need to think right now, so instead she just kisses him roughly, pushing him till he’s lying on the bed and she’s on top of him. She’s not actually been with anyone this body yet, not properly (full disclosure, she did snog Byron, just for the meme really) but the flesh remembers, and it’s pure biology, really, and she finds herself shifting in a way that makes her gasp and smile and O - no, the Master, that’s his smile - grin too. He smiles into her mouth as they keep kissing, O’s hands moving tentatively from her waist up to her back, pulling her suspenders from her shoulders.   
  
“I’d like to see you,” says O. “I want to see you with all your clothes gone.”  
  
She obliges, scrambling off of him, peeling off her shirt and bra, and then stepping out of her trousers and pants, which are printed with little bunches of bananas. O picks those up off the floor, and it’s the Master who looks up at her, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiles.   
  
“You’re ridiculous,” he says.  
  
“You’re ridiculous. And you’re still wearing clothes,” she adds. “Can’t mock until you’ve shown me your - “  
  
O can’t say it either, his cheeks going a little red, so instead he follows her lead, taking his waistcoat off and pulling his shirt over his head. He kicks off his shoes and kicks them off to one side, gets his trousers and pants off in the shaky, awkward way she remembers O doing last night (night? Time) and she sees he’s hard, and she kisses him again, O responding, and nice boys do _not_ kiss like that, so it’s the Master who picks her up, and she wraps her legs around his waist as he spins them around and they both fall onto the bed. They kiss, grinding against each other until he’s fully hard and she’s wet, and then O pulls back, lies on his side and watches her as she copies him, staring at him in his wonderful, dark eyes.  
  
“I’m not sure what to do next,” he says, running his hand over the curve of her hip. “You’re so soft. You’re so - cute? Did I tell you, I was sort of disappointed to hear your message. You know, you had a woman’s voice. I was excited to see you, the Doctor, but I was hoping - “  
  
The Doctor leans in and kisses him. O makes a surprised noise, kisses her back clumsily, squeezing her hip. The Doctor leans in, pressing O onto his back as she straddles his waist. He holds her hips, slides his hands down to her arse.   
  
“Okay, that’s lovely,” he says, as the Doctor laughs, and he laughs too. “You are - adorable.”  
  
“You’re adorable,” says the Doctor.  
  
She leans down and kisses him deeply, nipping at his bottom lip. O’s hands wander lower, touching her thighs, her knees. One travels all the way up to the nape of her neck, brushing the very top of her spine, a sensitive zone for Time Lords; it makes her breath stutter for a moment as she keeps kissing him, moving along his jaw and then back to his mouth. O’s other hand comes back up and massages her inner thigh. The Doctor sits up slightly, and he slides his fingers along her slick folds, teasing at her clit. It makes her laugh, smiling into O’s mouth.  
  
“Have you - “ the Master asks, suddenly serious, and the Doctor pulls away, shakes her head. “Okay.”  
  
“I mean, I’ve done things, for myself, but not - “  
  
“First time for everyone,” O says, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Let me just try and remember what the guys at school said in the change rooms.”  
  
“I don’t think that’s good advice, personally - oh!” the Doctor says, and then forgets when he bites her neck.   
  
“Yes, remember, and then do the exact opposite,” O whispers in her ear, and with one hand on her thigh and the other on her shoulder, he flips them so he’s back on top, and then kisses her deeply, their tongues brushing. “God, you’re — spectacular.”  
  
“You’re not so bad yourself.”  
  
The - no, it’s still O, there’s something timid in his movements - O, he moves down her body, kissing and nipping at her breasts, her stomach, her hips, and then she feels the brush of his stubble against her inner thigh. He pauses.   
  
“Okay, this is new.”  
  
“Yes, brand new.”  
  
O rests his chin on her thigh, smiles up at her with those puppy-dog eyes, his hair falling in front his eyes. The Doctor looks down.  
  
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she says, smoothing his hair back.  
  
He tips his head, kisses the hollow of her hip, and then moves his mouth lower, drawing his tongue along her slit. He laps at her clit, and laughs when she laughs. He takes her leg and moves it over his shoulder, kisses her inner thigh again. She snorts. O lifts his head, smiles up at her, but it’s not him and it’s not the Master, it’s a face she’s not seen in a very long time, and then it’s gone as he turns his attention back to her cunt and -  
  
“Fucking - hell,” says the Doctor. “Oh, fuck, don’t stop that. Do not - “ her hand goes from smoothing O’s hair to holding his head in place. “Fuck.”  
  
O hums, massaging her thigh with one hand. With the other, he reaches up and takes her free hand, interlaces their fingers. His head moves, and she cries out, and through her half-closed eyes she can see O moving his hips slightly, rubbing himself against the mattress as he licks inside her, his tongue hot and thick and wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, sliding up to her clit again, and he sucks at it, teases it with his tongue, and she’s so wet and so hot and her skin is on fire. She cries out, grinds against his mouth as she comes, shaking, twisting his hair between her fingers. 

*** * ***

  
The Master is the one watching her when she comes back to herself. He’s the one stroking her hair, moving the blankets up over her shaking legs, straightening the pillow.  
  
“I don’t want to stop,” she says, and watches him raise his eyebrows. “I never said I wanted to stop.”  
  
“Okay,” he whispers. “And can I be me?”  
She thinks, and pushes herself up on one elbow and kisses him deeply, and she can taste herself on his mouth. He kisses her back, hard and wanting. The Master slides his hand between her legs, slicks his fingers with the mess there, slips one inside her, then another. She makes a soft noise, lies on her back again as he leans over her, his broad shoulders reminding her of the physical advantage he has over her this time.  
  
The Master’s got three fingers inside her and his thumb on her clit and she’s writhing beneath him when he suddenly stops moving, his hair falling over his forehead.  
  
“You don’t want me to be me, do you?” he says.  
  
“You’ve got me in an awkward position,” she replies. “Little bit vulnerable.”  
  
“Hm.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“ _Doctor_ ,” he says, and she’s not sure who kisses her then.  
  
He sits up and moves aside, and she shuffles across the mattress to face him, cups his face and kisses him softly. She moves, sliding up into his lap and carefully moving over his cock. She takes it in her hand and carefully guides herself onto him, letting out a small moan as he massages the back of her neck, her clit to make it easier. It’s a stretch, but it’s a good sensation, and after a moment, he’s fully inside her and she leans against his chest, pressing their foreheads together.   
  
“Hi,” she says, and lets out a breath.  
  
He chuckles. “Hi.”  
  
“Hey.”  
  
“Hi.”  
  
The only sound is their breath, their hearts beating.   
  
“Are you ready?” he asks.   
  
She’s still not sure who’s asking, so instead she presses their lips together and shifts in his lap, getting used to the sensation.   
  
“Do you like it?”  
  
“It’s nice. It’s different,” she says, and gasps when the angle changes, hits somewhere very good.”It’s unusual.”  
  
He chuckles, rubs her thighs. “You feel really, really good. Perfect.”  
  
“You always say that.”  
  
He cants his hips forward and back, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders, and they begin to move together. There’s a lot of gasping and whispered swear words, and he bites her shoulder to keep himself under control as the Doctor’s body gets used to his again.  
  
“You don’t have to be gentle,” she says. “It feels - really….really, really good.”  
  
He kisses her neck, lowers her onto the mattress. She wraps her legs around his waist, remembering she always liked that when Missy did it for her, and the -  
  
“Doctor?”  
  
“Mm?”  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
He moves, and slides back into her, and he’s thick and hard and it feels -   
  
“Wonderful. You’re wonderful, O,” she says, and he ducks his head, smiles at her. “No, look at me, I want to see you.”  
  
“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” he says, and begins to move his hips slowly, rolling into her as she gasps. “You feel amazing.”  
  
He fucks her slowly at first, learning the sensation just as she learns it too, his hands warm and secure on her waist, his thumbs rubbing at the blades of her hips. He shifts slowly, changing the angle, and then gets a strange look on his face.  
  
“I think I like it there,” he says, and chuckles, and his hair falls into his eyes. “I think I really like it.”  
  
“Well, off you go,” says the Doctor, reaching down to his hip. She pulls him into her, harder. “I think I’d like that, too.”  
  
He leans down, kisses her deeply. The Doctor reciprocates, biting at his mouth until O thrusts into her with a grunt, and concentrates on the task at hand. He fucks her hard, at a steady rate (which is….very O, now she’s remembering), his cheek beside her cheek, his stubble rubbing at her skin. It should annoy her, but it’s comforting, and keeps her grounded as each thrust threatens to steal her breath away.  
  
“You are - “ he murmurs, and then says something she can’t catch. He keeps saying it, tucking his face into her neck, repeating the phrase.   
  
O moves his hand between their bodies, rubs her clit roughly in time to his thrusts, which makes her moan. She twitches, and O growls, moves over her and begins to fuck her harder, faster until the breath is stolen from her lungs and her hips are rising to meet his. She trails her hands up and down his muscled back (O works out, it’s a stress-relief thing, but he just can’t shift his tummy - ) and feels his broad shoulders shifting, and then, he stops.   
  
“Wait,” he says suddenly, buried in her. “Wait.”  
  
She looks up at him. “What is it?”  
  
“Do I need - “ he shifts, and lets out a breath, closing his eyes. “You feel so good. Um. Um, do I need a condom? Do you have, um - ” The Doctor finds herself laughing, and O gets a very funny expression as he feels her internal muscles shifting. “I’ll take that as a no?”  
  
“Well, there was a week and a half where I thought I was half-human, but no. You don’t need one,” she says, and O leans down, presses their lips together. “Mm. Ribbed for her pleasure.”  
  
He shifts, pressing their foreheads together and they begin to move again, the Doctor’s hips rising to meet his thrusts. O shifts one hand, grabs her arse, squeezes it. His speed increases, drawing a moan from her lips, and he responds. He moves so his lips are against her ear.  
  
“I want to see you properly,” he says, and then pulls out of her.  
  
The Doctor groans, feeling suddenly empty, deflated. She hadn’t realised how close she was to coming. O rolls onto his back, his cock flushed and slick with his and her come, and she watches as his chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath.   
  
“Do you want to ride my cock, Doctor?” he asks, and that’s not O, but it’s not quite the Master yet, and it’s enough for her.  
  
She’s almost got tunnel vision with how much she wants him, and she sits, her legs shaking, and moves and straddles his cock, sliding onto it like it’s made for her.  
  
“It is,” the Master says, his hands hot and heavy on her hips, and he thrusts up into her and it makes her shout. “Okay?”  
  
“Oh, fucking hell, it’s more than okay,” says the Doctor, and she shifts in his lap, trying to repeat the sensation. “Oh, O - “  
  
She’s not been in this position for a very long time, but it’s something innate, and she finds herself moving herself on his cock, hot and hard and throbbing inside her, as the Master meets her in the middle, pushing up into her, guiding her with his thumbs on the blades of her hips. There’s a few intense minutes of sweaty, breathless fucking, where it all comes down to him beneath her and on her and inside her, and it just fits, it just works; he moves one of his hands to her clit and teases it with his fingers.   
  
It makes her cry out his name (and she sees his expression, and if that isn’t the hottest thing she’s ever seen with these eyes) and she says it again, and again, and his free hand comes up to her breasts and teases at her nipples, pinching them and stroking them until she’s thrown her head back and drives herself onto his cock over and over again. Slick with sweat, her body shakes and she cries out, coming but she can’t stop moving against him, she needs to feel his cock inside her.  
  
“Fuck, fuck - “ she says, trembling, her cunt, her skin, her entire body on fire. “Fuck - “  
  
She leans down, pressing her forehead against his, and the Master grabs her face and kisses her roughly, still driving his cock into her, fucking her though she can barely stand it. He grabs her hips again, pulls her down onto his cock so their bodies are flush together, and he comes silently, hot and hard inside her, gasping as he keeps kissing her. He says something, but there’s a buzzing in her ears and she kisses his cheek and tucks her face into his neck so she can smell him and feel him and his pulses and she closes her eyes and the Master rubs her back as she falls asleep.

  
*** * ***

  
She wakes up, and for the second time that day, the Master is there, but this time he’s in her bed, and this time he’s the one passed out. Even as she watches, he turns, from facing her, to flopping on to his back. He snuffles, his mouth slack and hair mussed. His face is relaxed, and there’s something of O in that too, somewhere around the softness of his closed eyes and the dark curl of his eyelashes against his cheeks. He tailor-makes them with her in mind. Not the eyelashes. As clever as they both are, neither of them can create something entirely out of nothing.  
  
Her entire body sore, the Doctor props herself up on one elbow, reaches down and finds the blanket where it’s been kicked down the foot of the bed. She leans across the Master and makes sure he’s tucked in, and then settles back down on the mattress, drawing the other half of the blanket over herself. She rolls onto her side to face the wall, and falls into a doze. 

*** * ***

  
She starts awake though when the Master runs one knuckle across her shoulder blades. She turns back to face him, and he blinks sleepily across at her. He smiles, and there’s something in it that’s two-thousand years old and familiar to her, but unrecognisable. She raises her eyebrows at him, unsure if she has the energy to talk. The Master opens his mouth, closes it, gives in and asks.  
  
“Did you love him?” he says quietly, his voice hoarse.  
  
“I think so. A little,” the Doctor replies. “I always love them, a little. You should love more. It’s good for you.”  
  
At that, the Master sighs quietly. He rolls over again, turning his back on her and settling back into sleep. Suddenly cold, the Doctor draws herself across the mattress and presses her naked torso to his bare back, sliding her arm around his waist. The Master threads their fingers together, mumbles something. He squeezes her hand. She squeezes back, feeling her eyes sliding shut.   
  
“I’m still not sorry,” he says.   
  
“I know.”  
  
“They hurt you. Over, and over, and over — “  
  
“I know. You’ve hurt me, too.”  
  
He releases her hand and turns over, so they’re face to face. He loops his arm around her waist and pulls her flush against him, chest to chest, tucking her head under his chin. She noses into his neck, breathes in his familiar smell. He always smells the same (how did she not notice?).   
  
“Is it really that good for you? Look what it made me do,” the Master murmurs into her hair.   
  
“You made O,” she says.   
  
“Hm.”  
  
“You’ve made good things, with love. You’ve made music, I’ve heard you play for me.” The Doctor waits. “You made - “ now, this is the true test. “You made your daughter, didn’t you?”  
  
There’s a long moment when the Master doesn’t move, and then he kisses the top of her head, rubs the nape of her neck. “Go to sleep, Doctor. You need rest.”  
  
“Hey - ”  
  
“I don't want to talk about this. I'd like to sleep. We'll talk about it when we wake up."

"Okay." (They won't, and they both know this).

Regardless. She closes her eyes.

  



	2. DVD commentary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craftysquidz: "Also, I’m a total slut for your DVD commentaries, so if you do happen to write this and don’t mind making a commentary of it, I would fucking love to read it."
> 
> I'm a total slut for writing them, so fuck yeah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking fic requests at my tumblr (nicolauda)!

Here is the first time she meets O - well, technically. He, meets O. Should she start using they/them pronouns? She likes she/her for this body. She likes being a lady, all the henna and the hair and the soft way other ladies (who think she’s human) treat her now, and the secret looks and smiles when men are being. Men. In public. **We all know this look. We all fucking know.** Anyway. Men are the worst, except when they’re wonderful and kind, like Ryan and Graham and Jack and so many others — **I study masculinity, and I'm really off the "men are the worst" thing right now, but sometimes. Men are the worst.**  
  
She hasn’t been sleeping. Where was she? **Okay, so prompt. I work a bit different with prompts, obviously. But - Squid asked for the Doctor being hella nostalgic for O, so I knew, in the 1800 times I tried to start this fic, that it had to start with O. Squid also suggested a different reason for the Doctor texting O, like one of her old texts was late arriving to his phone, but I ended up going with this because I wanted to set up a) how they met and b) why he's got her number and c) I like the Tenth Doctor but I don't write enough for him. I got into DW fic during 10's era but just spent most of my time fawning over the insanely talented writers who'd write about him and Simm!Master and lurking away too scared to write anything.**  
  
O, when they met, was in a suit jacket a little too big for him, **O's vest Thing he was wearing in the outback was cut quite large, and I feel like that was deliberate to make it look like, he was trying to look smaller. Sacha Dhawan's shoulders, to me, seem to be quite broad, I think I'm just into that; I'm quite tall so a man who can throw me over his shoulder is just of interest to me** his hair flopping over his forehead **, this is actually how the Master has his hair, so I wanted to sort of imply maybe the Master wasn't planning on meeting the Doctor that day,** and his fingers furiously typing on a keyboard where the letters were worn away. He had a little toy robot sticker on his laptop, **foreshadowing not his plan, but Missy's plan at the end of s8,** and he had a cold cup of tea by his elbow. **Originally he was going to knock the tea over as he got up to greet the Doctor, but that's irrelevant. You can pretend that happened if you want.** They’d met in a cafe briefly, when a UNIT advisor (Captain Trent? Trentham?) had dragged him and Martha through to get a coffee before a briefing because of an invasion or some aliens or something. UNIT’s always been hard for him (her?) to keep track of, date wise. **UNIT dating controversy baddum tish**

Where exactly was she? She’s a bit overtired. Been hit on the head. Sent the fam off home because they were having a fuss. **I couldn't decide whether she should just be very tired (ala the finale) or have a bit of a head injury as to why she has texting butterfingers, so I combined the two. It wasn't a bad bump, didn't even concuss her, hence why the Master is like "fuck off to bed, dumb dumb."  
**

Anyway. O. When they met. Flustered, wonderful **I say wonderful a LOT in this story** O, who noticed the Doctor had a very fast pulse when they shook hands, **the Master is a bitch,** and asked very quickly, his voice low and excited and his eyes flashing with something like joy **because it was joy, yes, but like, victory, "HE FELL FOR IT", and also excitement because it's like "IT'S THE DOCTOR"** \- “you’re not human, are you?” And he’d pointed O in the direction of UNIT, and aliens, and the skies above, and —

Her head really hurts. **SO this is is also meant to be like....her head hurts, because it upsets her to think about it.**

She means to text Ryan, or Yaz, or Graham or hell, Martha, she’s a doctor too, but somehow she sends it (it being “coconut very cooked, need assist” **legitimately the way I announce head injuries, last major role I had in a show I got a concussion Night One during my death scene** ) off to the number that’s still in her stupid phone as stupid “O” with a little purple octopus that O had put in there, purple, the Master’s favourite colour of their last two regenerations. **I don't know how I feel about the Master's ankle-bashers tbh, but I do like the continuity with the colour purple, how O in disguise has that purple undershirt on....delicious.** He’d been laying little hints since day 0 …. Day zero. **This line felt very cheesy but ah well.**

Anyway. Stupid O, who wasn’t stupid, who was lovely and wonderful and sweet, and had kissed her (when she’d had pointy hair and a stripy suit **me, typing: fuck have I made it clear that it was that Doctor?** ), sweet and clumsy, after the alien incursion (not invasion) was over, when they’d walked back to his flat together. O had told the Doctor, he was gay and his parents had found out and kicked him out (disapproval by the family and isolation from one’s culture, that’s a double whammy that the Doctor would swallow every time. She - and especially her Tenth body - knew better than anyone how that felt). **So yeah, if this - anyway. So, Sacha Dhawan is British-Indian and in other fics I've said the Master looks like he's from Pakistan, but in this case I'm imagining that O claimed he was a) British-Indian (after all, he's an alien who happens to LOOK like that), b) from a Hindu family and c) made up that he had very traditionalist parents who were homophobic. There's no consensus in Hinduism regarding homosexuality and so it depends on what area of the world you are in and when, and who you're with. Some Hindu communities are very welcoming to queer folk, others not so much. It should be noted that a lot of the homophobia in India and some branches of Hinduism was actually imported from Britain when the Brits came a-colonizing.**

 **So O is this supposed gay British-Indian man who was turfed out by his family and community; the 10th Doctor is a lonely alien completely cut off from his own family and community. The Master set up the character perfectly.** **That in my mind, the Master was also disowned by his own House on Gallifrey for being a bad Time Lord (not evil, not then, not yet), is not a coincidence. Where were we?**

And O had invited her (him) he’d **I totally respect pronouns, but it is HARD to get the fluid nature of the Doc's gender when you're writing about the past, in present tense. I'm working on it.** Invited the Doctor inside and they’d had the most wonderful **(it's always wonderful, should have said brilliant, that's 10's thing)** , clumsy, human sex she’d had in a long time **this sets up a bit of O being awkward while giving the Doc the D, outside of his being gay**. O had been awkward and called the Doctor “baby” (“I just like it, I know it’s weird,” O had said, with that cute smile, dipping his head to hide **it, the Master is a BITCH, but this also sets up why he calls the Doc baby later on, also remember in Nazi-Occupied France when Missy called the Doctor baby, why am I thinking about NOF still)** and tripped getting his pants off, made jokes and made the Doctor laugh and then made him shout and howl. **Nearly wrote "twist and shout" here and had a good chuckle to myself about it. The sex wasn't amazing but you KNOW Ten was about the cuddling.  
**

Her head really hurts, and there’s a pain in her chest now, too. **So this is building on the earlier ref to her head hurting, now the pain is spreading and it's more emotional.  
**

“Sorry,” she types in another text. “Not meant for you. Obviously.” Then again, he’s meant to have died on Gallifrey. 

She sincerely doubts from simply…existing in the universe with the Master, that that is possible. **Fucking love this fandom. "It's not that the Master's back at all, it's just....what happened with regards to Missy's development?" Still a bit HM on that front tbh, but I have less doubts wrt to Chibbers than I did to Moffat, in that the finale did answer most of the questions/issues set up, unlike certain _other_ finales.  
**

She should really delete that number. She opens that menu option, stares at the stupid fucking purple octopus and deletes O’s name, and renames it as….as…

The phone vibrates in her hand. 

> NEW TEXT FROM O: I can still be him if you want me to be baby **This phrasing is taken straight from _Texting a Friend_ as per Squid's prompt, also it's hilar **

Her head really hurts. Her thumb moves, and she sends him the time-space coordinates of a deserted moon that orbits a fragment of Jupiter. **I was going to be more clear on this, that like, Jupiter was hit by a big rock or something and so its small rocky core at the centre of the gas giant has shattered, Jupiter is my favourite planet like I KNOW it's mostly gas, I just like the idea of Wisps and loose rocks and lonely Time Lads.** His TARDIS is there when she arrives. The Master enters, and he does little other than check her pupils and pulses and announce he’s satisfied her brain isn’t going to come out of her nose. **She's legit just exhausted. She's sort of beyond noting she's tired, you know, like a toddler, or myself when I've forgotten to eat lunch. Self-care is seriously important. Straighten your back.**  
  
“When did you last sleep?” he asks, as the Doctor ignores him, walking out of the console room. “Doctor?”  
  
“It’s been a while,” she snaps.  
  
“I told you you were the Timeless Child. It doesn’t mean you have to act like a literal kid,” the Master says, and his face twists, and he sends her to bed. **This was one of the last lines to be added in, because I wanted only a small Sprinkle, a mere Whisper, of the Master's daughter. I saw the ex today, and he didn't know the Master had a daughter and gosh, it just tickles me that we only have that one line. We've built WORLDS on that line. Gosh I love fanfiction. So, his face is twisting because he doesn't talk about children; he's remembering sending his own kid to bed, which is a weird feeling to have when you want to smush your genitals against someone else's.**

**And yeah, I'm not sure how I feel on the Timeless Child, I really wanted it to be a) the Doc AND the Master, b) just some rando poor kid that the Master pitied for Reasons relating to his own daughter, i don't know, and it would be like...the fam would be shocked the Master would react in such a way because he's the Master idk or c) GLORY BE, THE MASTER AND THE DOCTOR'S DAUGHTER. PRAISE BE TO THE IMPOSSIBLE DREAM. I knew that wasn't gonna happen. I've rhapsodied on the Timeless Child elsewhere. Let me know your thoughts.**

*** * ***

**These spacies ^^^ are also spaced differently throughout the fic to show different amounts of time passing. So, in this gap, she's been out for a while. Later on when she has a little post-oral snooze, it's just like, a five-second nap and so the spaces are smaller. I'm trying something newish.**

She wakes up and she’s still small and blonde and still herself, so that’s a win. Her head no longer hurts, but there’s still a pain in her chest which is explained when she looks left and sees the Master sitting beside her bed on an Eames chair he’s dragged in (wanker, **this is also a Frasier thing, I love Frasier. Frasier has an Eames, Frasier is a wanker** ), leafing through a _Clangers_ storybook. **Is it a fic till the Master is thinking about Clangers?**  
  
“Do they ever explain the breeding process?” He asks. “One must assume it’s some kind of binary fission - “ **Originally I was gonna call this fic binary fission but I HATED it, and then it was going to be like...."i can be him if you want" but I don't tend to like my own fics being named after quotes in the story text; summaries, yes, titles, no. It's a personal preference.**

**Might as well do this here. So I was like "what to call. What to call, the fic with the Master pretending to be someone else, and the Doctor requesting he hide himself, and this fic with references to complex familial dynamics (O's fictional family, the Doctor and the Master's relationship, the Master and his daughter) and so I thought about "mask" and wasn't Satisfied, and then I was like "what's a famous mask" and I was like "ah, yes, the Man in the Iron Mask, that great film with Leonardo DiCaprio, and also the 1840s Dumas works" (which I have not read). So I did a bit of a google and reread all the theories on who the Lad in the Iron Mask was, and then the name[Eustache Dauger de Cavoye ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Man_in_the_Iron_Mask#Eustache_Dauger_de_Cavoyep)popped out to me. Apparently he's thought to not be the Dude in the Iron Mask now, but I just really enjoyed the name tbh. And then I was like "huh, Dauger looks like 'daughter.'" I proceeded to look up "Dauger" on google and it came up with "Did you mean: Daughter?" _and_ a link to the Chap in the Iron Mask. I was like "that works" and tested it on Google UK, Google DE and Google US, where it also has the same two things pop up. Unfortunately, and probably ironically, this doesn't work on Google FR, instead it comes up with someone named Jean Dauger, and then L'Homme au Masque de Fer is further down the page. I have mentioned this to a genuine 100% real French person, just the word "dauger" and they were like "yes like the guy thought to maybe be the homie in the iron mask?" So hopefully it covers all angles.  
**

**In short, the fic is called "Dauger" because it brings you a google search result about both masks, and the word "daughter." I wish it was deeper but alas.**  
  
“Why are you still here?”  
  
“Checking you’re okay,” he says. “A universe without you toddling about would be a dull one indeed.” **"A universe without the Doctor scarcely bears thinking about" but toddling also carries connotations of children. Is that weird? Yes.**  
  
“You’ve said that before.” **"a friendship older than your civilisation, and infinitely more complex."**  
  
“More or less.”  
  
“I didn’t mean to text you,” the Doctor says. She pulls back the covers and stands quickly, wobbling. The Master stands with her, leaving his book open on the chair’s arm to mark the pages. **To be clear, he is standing to catch her if she falls. 100%.** “I was going to text Martha. Your number was below it.”  
  
The Master sneers. “I’m still in there as O?” **Actually, if we assume everyone's only in the Doc's phone by their first name, it would go "Martha, Master, Mel, O" but I chose to ignore that.**  
  
“Not any more.”  
  
“Funny,” he says, and holds up her phone. It’s unlocked, because of course. “Because I seem to be.”  
  
“Give that back!”  
  
“Or, O, Octopus. Or perhaps. Ooctopus. Oh-ctopus.” The Master looks at the phone again. “You need to change your password. The thirtieth, one-hundredth, fourth and one-thousandth digits of pi? Far too easy for you. Slipping.” **This is meant to be like, he knows her so well, even now.**  
  
The Doctor sits on the bed again. “Are you going to - “  
  
Wordlessly, the Master drops the phone onto her rumpled bedsheets. “You were asleep for fifteen hours. Go have a wash, I’m going to make you a cup of tea and then I’ll be on my merry way.”  
  
“…I don’t take it with milk anymore.”  
  
“Same goes with your men and humans, apparently,” the Master says as he leaves the room. **This is a racially-charged dig at Ryan and Yaz, but also the Master....is no longer white. And he's a men. Yes, a men.**  
  
She does go and wash her face, and brush her teeth because it feels like something’s growing on her molars, and then she changes her shirt (blue to maroon, why not) and is examining her tangled collection of suspenders when the Master lets himself back in with two cups of tea and a plate of custard creams. He sets the tray on the bedside table and sits back in the Eames, with the air of someone not about to be on their merry way. **He's gotten her to sleep, and now he's gotten her to wash, and now he's hydrating her and making sure her blood sugar isn't too low. He cares, guys. Even though he destroyed her home planet. Again.**  
  
The pair drink and eat in silence, the Doctor wishing she had her book (this week it’s the the Collected Dorothy Parker **chose this because once I was cast as Dorothy Parker without auditioning because, to quote my teacher, "you're witty and a bitch," and so now I have a copy of the Collected Works of DP on my shelves** ) but scrolling through her phone instead. **Haven't we all been there. "I want to read a book so much....ah, look, a ten minute video on Facebook showing me clearly fake gardening hacks. Fabbo."** Resolutely not looking at the Master, she finds herself opening up her and O’s old text chain, skimming as she scrolls backwards, across nine years for him (earth time) and literal centuries for her, even if she’d dropped off the radar for a couple of decades here and there. Small bits of conversation jump out of her as she reads back in time.   
  


> O: Have you seen that old show Taking over the Asylum? Very good. Needed a palate cleanser after crying my eyes out during the Broadchurch s1 finale. **Two points - David Tennant in Taking over the Asylum, and of course, Chibbers and Jodie worked on Broadchurch. Which, funny enough, I was also only lukewarm on the s1 finale too.**
> 
>   
> O: Finally taken your suggestion and am reading Good Omens, really enjoying it, esp the relationship between Az and C ☺ **David Tennant. Again. Three points.**  
>  The Doctor: Just wait till you see the adaptation. Love John Ham, Jon Ham? Jon Bacon.
> 
>   
> O: Getting some queer history books out. Did you ever meet Christopher Isherwood, he seems very interesting? You should go meet him. **Four points - Matt Smith played Chris Isherwood in Christopher and His Kind. Good lil film.**
> 
>   
> The Doctor: If you get this in 2007 be sure to catch Absurdia at the Donmar Warehouse v good, good choctops **Five points, PCap was in that back in the day. Also, I spent about thirty minutes with dear Cathy asking her if they have choctops in the UK and what they're called. They're called (at least in Bristol): those icecreams over there, thanks mate.**  
>  O: Missed it by three years, ten months but thank you for the thought ☺ **O loves a smiley. Because the Master is a bitch.**
> 
>   
> The Doctor: I just went and caught up with Christopher and he’s v glad you liked his biography. Have you spoken with your parents? **So yeah, Eleven (i just like the idea of Matt Smith's Doctor, and Matt Smith's Christopher) being problematique (it's not O's job to cure his fake parents of their homophobia), but it's also showing that O being excluded from his family really got the Doctor in the hearts, that O was successfully tailor-made for the Doctor.**  
>  O: They don’t want anything to do with me, but that’s alright. I’ve got work and so on. **Because the Master is a bitch.**  
>  O: It’s okay, I’ll keep on keeping on. **This has strong Ten-Eleven energy of "I'm suffering!!!!!! But I'll keep going!!! I'll kiss Kylie Minogue!!! And then she'll die!!! I'll be in Doctor Who series seven!! But I'll have a career afterwards, you just see!"**  
>  O: Besides, C is….like the worst uncle I never wanted so that’s something like family haha. You’ll hate him when you meet him.  
> O: If. I don’t want you to feel obligated to come here haha **O trying to get the sense of ~loneliness~ over to the Doctor**  
>  O: Hate is a strong word, more like…understand my feelings towards him  
>   
> 
> 
> The Doctor: The [dismissal of the Australian Prime Minister](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1975_Australian_constitutional_crisis)!! Was aiming for Woodstock but hey!!  
> O: I got this in 2015 they’re still on that Tony man as far as I know? He ate an onion? **I deliberately didn't check the date old Tones ate the apple because if it wasn't 2015, it could be read as a slip-up on the Master's part, but Tones was only PM from [checks sundial] September 2013 to September 2015 so there's not really that much time for me to make a mistake with. Legitimately couldn't remember who the current PM was for a minute there through.**  
>  The Doctor: [[attached image]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A4jfR2u_9Kk) **I am basically** **picturing Eleven chumming it up with Norman Gunston. Legit, that video is the 1970s Australian equivalent of I don't know...like Stephen Colbert sticking a microphone in Bill Clinton's face during his impeachment proceedings. Like, in the courtroom. I don't know how the American system works. I picked Clinton bc I didn't even want to mention Whitlam's name in the same sentence as the current "President" of the USA (like one of the reasons Australia isn't suffering as much from corona virus in the same way the USA is, is because of systems Gough Whitlam set up in our medical system. I mean the man was key in ending apartheid and advancing the rights of women just....remember when politicians were driven because of ethics, morals and a dream of making life genuinely better for people? JESUS. And he was only in power for about three years (we've been chopping and changing Prime Ministers for a long time, but that chop and change was a genuine constitutional crisis). Where was I? Gosh I love[Whitlam](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gough_Whitlam) and the Labor party of yesteryear. Seriously, where was I -- **  
> O: I have no idea who that is **Well, now you know**  
>  The Doctor: [attached image]  
> O: I don’t know who that is but it looks like you’re in the 1970s and they definitely did not have selfies in the 1970s  
> O: Is that a fez? ☺ looking very handsome haha **noo dont kill urself ur so sexy[haha](https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/dont-kill-yourself-youre-so-sexy-aha)**  
>   
> 

The Master, not looking up from his book, puts his teacup down. “Do you miss him?”  
  
She tosses the phone aside. “Who?”  
  
“You know.” The Master sweeps his hair away from his forehead, moves his mouth slightly so his face is just…different. **I act, as a hobby and I just can't deal with how well Dhawan maintained that facade as O, it only slips when he wants you to see it and you're looking for it.** “O?”  
  
“Can’t miss someone who never existed.”  
  
“Ah yes, like your first girlfriend in the Academy.”  
  
She scoffs. “I thought you were leaving.”  
  
“I thought you were ill, turns out you just needed to get your head down.” **Self-caaaaaaare**  
  
“More reason for you to go, then. Go on,” the Doctor says.”You put your feet down, on the floor and get moving.”  
  
“Now I think on it, I was probably your first girlfriend at the Academy.”  
  
She ignores him.   
  
“Well, boyfriend. Fifteen to nineteen, thirty-two to thirty-three, thirty-five to forty-seven, sixty-nine to ninety-six, then there was those six months we were interning at the Capitol in our centurteens and just fucking like rabbits even though I was engaged to whatsherface - “ he picks up the _Clangers_. “Remember when I was sucking you off on that old…chaise lounge or whatever of Rassilon, and your brother came in?” **There's a lot in there, but mostly sixty-nine, hahaha. I think this time around, I'm trying to make it like. Theta and Koschei were the Ross and Rachel of Gallifrey and everyone was just kind of. Sick of their shenanigans. Poor Brax. Also, the Master can't remember his fiancee's name because they didn't get married, because he was a naughty Time Lord.**  
  
The Doctor does look at him at that, eyes wide. “What?” **This has strong Nazi-Occupied France energy. Just this one line. I think.**  
  
“You don’t rem - you were pretty far gone, actually, when we were both so young and full of vim and vigour. And. Well. I’ve always been good with my tongue.” **Nice.**  
  
The thing is, that sounds exactly like what she remembers of that incredibly dull internship, if the specifics are fuzzy to her. She’s had dozens of love affairs over her lifetimes; her first wife, Rose, River, Romana, why does she only ever fall in love with people whose names begin with R? **I make this joke a lot, but. You know. Reinette, too, now I think on it.** In comparison, the Master has rarely, if ever, loved anyone but her. Of course it’s clearer to him. For most of his lives, she’s been all he’s had; there was his daughter, but she’s long gone now, even before the Time War. **This was hard to phrase and I don't think I got it quite right regardless, but I do full on believe the Master's only ever loved the Doctor romantically. He might have had siblings, and he definitely had a daughter he loved as a parent, but I believe that emotionally, the Doctor is the alpha and omega of the Master's romantic interest. Sexually, he's been around the block and on the block, but it's just. He loves the Doctor, or thinks he does, and that's it for him, stick a fork in him. He's done.**

 **I also love an implicit/implied declaration/acknowledgement of love** ; **"the Master has rarely, if ever, loved anyone but her." She knows he loves her, no matter what, and he knows she'll keep loving him no matter what he does. That's a huge weight to bear on one's shoulders. It's an unspoken knowledge and truth even as he's off alligning himself with Nazis and she's leaving him to die. At the hands of the Nazis.**  
  
“You’re staring at me. So,” says the Master, putting the Clangers aside again, raising his eyebrows at her. “Do you miss him?” **Swing and a miss, he thought she had the stares because she was thinking about O. If he'd asked a different question, this would be a very different story. I'll write that one day.**  
  
“Who?”  
  
“O.”  
  
“Yes. Yes, I do, you know I do. You designed him to be the perfect bait for me,” says the Doctor, and puts her tea down with a loud thunk on the bedside table. “He was so sweet and smart and kind, and you are - “  
  
“I’m not smart?”  
  
“Oh - “  
  
“Yes?”  
  
The Master gives her that look again, where his eyes become softer and kinder, his smile less manic and simply marvellous **not wonderful? Love some alliteration** , and he settles into his chair like he’s going to curl up with a vintage Gameboy and a good mug of tea.   
  
“How do you do that?” she murmurs. **She's murmuring because she's sort of - hopeful, and ashamed, because she's had the idea.**  
  
“What?”  
  
“Change - yourself, like that? I’ve never been able to do that.”  
  
“Doctor, if there’s one thing you can’t do,” the Master-and-O says, “It’s hide your true nature. You’re too - well, you’re so you, all the time. It’s simultaneously delicious and infuriating.” **I like this line of dialogue. That's it.**  
  
“Could you?”  
  
“Could I what?”   
  
The Master drops the act, and he’s himself again. He watches her as she shifts, swinging her legs over the side of the bed so their knees are basically touching. **Mmm, love a near-leg press.**  
  
“Could you - “  
  
His lips part as he realises, his dark eyes dropping briefly to her phone. “I can still be him if you want me to, baby,” he says, slowly, and the Doctor swallows, her throat dry. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you. Remember when I fucked you? God, it was glorious. I was out there becoming Prime Minister and waiting for you, and I was in the Vault with you watching over me and you were in bed with me at the same time. Three Masters, two Doctors, all in one country on one day. **Oh you kNOW he loved that. YOU KNOW. I'll write the fic one day.** It was delicious. That body of yours, so lanky. I could have gotten a paper cut if I wasn’t careful.” **Thanks, Donna.**  
  
“I remember - “ the Doctor says slowly. “I remember O telling me that this kind of thing didn’t happen for him, that I made him feel special, that I - “ **Did O tell you that the Master is a bitch?**  
  
“O said a lot of things,” says the Master, and he stands, brushing past her as he moved round to the corner of the room. He slips off his stupid purple jacket and hangs it in her wardrobe by her own coat - “I hung that up for you,” he adds, when he sees her expression. “It didn’t teleport. And yes, if you were wondering, I do tailor-make them for you sometimes. It’s all in the eyes, the wonderment. You can’t resist someone who thinks you hung the bloody moon.” He keeps pacing, unbuttoning his waistcoat, rolling up his shirtsleeves. **THAT'S HOT. THAT'S JUST A FACT.** “You love a scientist,” he says. “You love someone with passion, and you love those who protect. You love all the parts of yourself that you see in other people, but you don’t see yourself the same way.” **This last little bit is him sort of trying to say but failing to, you are someone who is a scientist (god I love 13's inventing and sciencing) and you have passion and love, and you protect those you love, and i see that in you and I love you, love you, love you for that**  
  
He turns, his top shirt button also undone in just the way O used to wear it. Ah.   
  
“So, Doctor,” the Master says, with a flourish, pushing his hair back into the neat swoop O had. “I can still be that man if you’d like me to be. For tonight.” **The Master is a bitch, here, but this comes back to bite him.**  
  
She can’t think of anything to say except, “I thought it was about four-thirty.” **It was about four-thirty when I wrote this bit, and I thought it was funny.**  
  
“Yes, local time.”  
  
“Local time, yes.” **This is the sort of dialogue where you can see people know each other well. She's put it all on the line, asking him for help, and then for this, and he's responded and is giving it to her (heh), and then they break and have this little....4.30? Local time. moment of...I don't know, familiar, dumb, domesticity. And then they're back to it.**  
  
The Master sits on the bed beside her, their thighs centimetres apart, and O looks at her, and his face is somehow calmer, smoother, his eyes kinder. He looks at her lips, **when someone looks at someone's lips in a fic, you know it's Go time,** then at her eyes.  
  
“I’ve never been with a woman before,” he says, his voice smoother, human, more timid. It’s O’s voice. His hand shakes almost imperceptibly, **god he's such a fucking wanker,** as he reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear. “But I think - with you, Doctor, I could - I don’t mind.”  
  
“You don’t mind?”  
  
“I don’t mind at all,” O says, and kisses her.   
  
It’s soft, tender, just the way it had been a hundred, four hundred-odd years ago when O had stood on the step above the one she’d (he’d) been standing on, brushed one thumb along the line of her jaw. The Master - O - trails that hand down her neck (throat) and presses it against her sternum, between her hearts (“My heart is maintained by the - “) **The Doctor's subconciously like, this is the Master, this is something the Master/Missy did, this is - and then O senses, whoop, the Master. The Master senses that and brings her back into the fantasy that he's this gay with an exception (Thirteen is a lesbian but I didn't get into it in this one, like to me. She's 100% a lesbian, and very annoyed, because she loves the Master no matter what body they're in. I mean right,[she was a lesbian!) ](https://www.voicetube.com/videos/2661)Might as well talk about this here. Like, the Doctor is on the whole, to me, asexual and mostly romantically disinclined in the TV canon, asexual bc they're ace but romantically disinclined because lonely immortal sad time lord blah, but panromantic/pansexual when they are inclined. **

**The Thirteenth Doctor, on the other hand, is a giant lesbian. I feel if Missy was male-presenting the Twelfth Doctor would read, very gay to me, and I would be All For That, and River would then read as his exception. I'm tired. Regardless of their bodies or forms, the Doctor and the Master want to put their mouths against each other. I totally don't want to discount bi or pan people who have a preference for one gender or another, that is very valid. The fact of the matter is, sexuality is fluid and sometimes gay men fall for women, and sometimes gay women fall for men and that doesn't make them any less gay.**

**The Thirteenth Doctor is a Very Annoyed Lesbian. I should have brought this out in this fic now I think on it, and for that I'm annoyed at myself, but there were so many balls in the air already.**  
  
“God, you’re wonderful,” says O, and the Doctor finds herself kissing him back, **let's pretend "finds herself kissing him back" is the bit that tells us she's an Annoyed Lesbian,** running her hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands against her fingers. “Doctor?”  
  
“Mm?”  
  
“It’s not weird, when it’s you.” **Said the gay man to the very annoyed lesbian. Who here has seen Russell T Davies' delightfully early-2000s show Bob and Rose? Check it out. It hasn't exactly aged well but I had fun watching it, even if it looks like it was filmed with a potato.**  
  
“Okay.”  
  
The Doctor makes up her mind (which has been blank) and shifts, swinging around so she’s in O’s lap facing him, her thighs on either side of his hips. He drops his warm hands to her waist, **i always like them to be warm. it's like, a home and comfort thing,** runs his thumbs along the lines of her suspenders.  
  
“I don’t even know where to start,” he says, and laughs.  
  
The laugh is a mix of the Master and of O, and she doesn’t need to think right now, so instead she just kisses him roughly, **there is a Lot of rough kissing in this story,** pushing him till he’s lying on the bed and she’s on top of him. She’s not actually been with anyone this body yet, not properly (full disclosure, she did snog Byron, just for the meme really. **I love that I feel like Everyone has a fic where they mention the Doctor (any iteration) or the Master has Fucked Byron, so when Byron actually appeared I was Tickled** ) but the flesh remembers, and it’s pure biology, really, and she finds herself shifting in a way that makes her gasp and smile and O - no, the Master, that’s his smile - grin too. He smiles into her mouth as they keep kissing, O’s hands moving tentatively from her waist up to her back, pulling her suspenders from her shoulders.   
  
“I’d like to see you,” says O. “I want to see you with all your clothes gone.” **On reflection, I like and dislike this. I feel like O was quite decisive, but I also wrote him as gay, so perhaps an adjective here would have been good; what adjective you ask? We just don't know. Maybe "suddenly" or "lowly."**  
  
She obliges, scrambling off of him, peeling off her shirt and bra, **another fic I wrote with her had her shirts having like. Boob support, that actually works, and I have no doubt that she'd want boob supporting shirts as opposed to a bra, but here I went with a bra,** and then stepping out of her trousers and pants, which are printed with little bunches of bananas. **They're good. You're welcome, Ninth Doctor.** O picks those up off the floor, and it’s the Master who looks up at her, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiles. **The Master, internally: "How can I love this fucking idiot. I love this fucking idiot. I can't say I love her, I can't - "**  
  
“You’re ridiculous,” he says.  
  
“You’re ridiculous. And you’re still wearing clothes,” she adds. “Can’t mock until you’ve shown me your - “  
  
O can’t say it either, his cheeks going a little red, so instead he follows her lead, taking his waistcoat off and pulling his shirt over his head. He kicks off his shoes and kicks them off to one side, gets his trousers and pants off in the shaky, awkward way she remembers O doing last night (night? Time **I don't like this, but I wanted to get it across that her memory is just...skipping across centuries** ) and she sees he’s hard, and she kisses him again, O responding, and nice boys do _not_ kiss like that, **full disclosure, that line is from Bridget Jones's Diary, but I love it,** so it’s the Master who picks her up, and she wraps her legs around his waist as he spins them around and they both fall onto the bed. They kiss, grinding against each other until he’s fully hard and she’s wet, and then O pulls back, lies on his side and watches her as she copies him, staring at him in his wonderful, dark eyes. **Wonderful.**  
  
“I’m not sure what to do next,” he says, running his hand over the curve of her hip. **A lot of fics, mine included, make a point of Missy being curvy, like women are curvy, and men are more angular, which is generally true-ish. I decided to keep that going here.** “You’re so soft. You’re so - cute? Did I tell you, I was sort of disappointed to hear your message. You know, you had a woman’s voice. I was excited to see you, the Doctor, but I was hoping - “  
  
The Doctor leans in and kisses him. O makes a surprised noise, kisses her back clumsily, squeezing her hip. The Doctor leans in, pressing O onto his back as she straddles his waist. He holds her hips, slides his hands down to her arse.   
  
“Okay, that’s lovely,” he says, as the Doctor laughs, and he laughs too. **In retrospect, after the past month or so of writing him, the new Master is an arse man.** “You are - adorable.”  
  
“You’re adorable,” says the Doctor. **You're both disgusting. The Master is deffo playing up O as a bit of a romantic softie, but the Doctor kind of needs that right now.**  
  
She leans down and kisses him deeply, nipping at his bottom lip. O’s hands wander lower, touching her thighs, her knees. One travels all the way up to the nape of her neck, brushing the very top of her spine, a sensitive zone for Time Lords; it makes her breath stutter for a moment as she keeps kissing him, moving along his jaw and then back to his mouth. O’s other hand comes back up and massages her inner thigh. The Doctor sits up slightly, and he slides his fingers along her slick folds, teasing at her clit. It makes her laugh, smiling into O’s mouth. **Love a smiling-into-the-mouth-kiss. It's so pure and innocent and loving, and as she's loving him, the Master shows he cares because -**  
  
“Have you - “ the Master asks, suddenly serious, **it's clear it's the Master, there's a tonal shift and a purpose to breaking out of the roleplay, because he cares, in his own sick way,** and the Doctor pulls away, shakes her head. “Okay.” **If she'd been sexually Active (presumably with Lord Byron lmao) he'd definitely be way rougher with her, as she'd have a better idea of her own physical limits. As such. Safe, sane and consensual. Like, there's no point in him just Taking Here and hurting her, because then she'd never be with him again, you know? It's self-serving and sensitive at the same time.**  
  
“I mean, I’ve done things, for myself, but not - “  
  
“First time for everyone,” O says, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. **It's like a smash cut back to O here, like bang, Master's gone, O's back.** “Let me just try and remember what the guys at school said in the change rooms.”  
  
“I don’t think that’s good advice, personally - oh!” the Doctor says, and then forgets when he bites her neck. **Nice boys do not bite like that.**  
  
“Yes, remember, and then do the exact opposite,” O whispers in her ear, and with one hand on her thigh and the other on her shoulder, he flips them so he’s back on top, and then kisses her deeply, their tongues brushing. “God, you’re — spectacular.” **Spectacular is a very Simm!Master word, but she doesn't pick up on that.**  
  
“You’re not so bad yourself.”  
  
The - no, it’s still O, there’s something timid in his movements - O, he moves down her body, kissing and nipping at her breasts, her stomach, her hips, and then she feels the brush of his stubble against her inner thigh. **Men's facial stubble is. Annoying, unless it's not. It's good on the not-genitals, and not good on the genitals.** He pauses.   
  
“Okay, this is new.”  
  
“Yes, brand new.”  
  
O rests his chin on her thigh, smiles up at her with those puppy-dog eyes, his hair falling in front his eyes. **So the Master's hair is messy on his forehead, O's is swept back, but this is meant to be, O, looking cute and innocent and mussed. You can also read it as the Master coming through though, it works both ways.** The Doctor looks down.  
  
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she says, smoothing his hair back. **This is just like, meant to be all cute and new and clumsy and loving, and I think it comes across.**  
  
He tips his head, kisses the hollow of her hip, and then moves his mouth lower, drawing his tongue along her slit. He laps at her clit, and laughs when she laughs. He takes her leg and moves it over his shoulder, kisses her inner thigh again. She snorts. O lifts his head, smiles up at her, but it’s not him and it’s not the Master, it’s a face she’s not seen in a very long time, and then it’s gone as he turns his attention back to her cunt and - **yeah this is like, Koschei's face, as per Squid's prompt. I don't like, using the childhood nicknames they have in the EU too much because they're names of power, you know? It's the most sensitive, vulnerable part of themselves, they're not just going to go dangling it about all over the place like a disembodied uvula.**  
  
“Fucking - hell,” says the Doctor. “Oh, fuck, don’t stop that. Do not - “ her hand goes from smoothing O’s hair to holding his head in place. **Dom!Thirteen says hi.** “Fuck.”  
  
O hums, massaging her thigh with one hand. With the other, he reaches up and takes her free hand, interlaces their fingers. His head moves, and she cries out, and through her half-closed eyes she can see O moving his hips slightly, rubbing himself against the mattress as he licks inside her, his tongue hot and thick and wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, **STOP SAYING WONDERFUL??** sliding up to her clit again, and he sucks at it, teases it with his tongue, and she’s so wet and so hot and her skin is on fire. She cries out, grinds against his mouth as she comes, shaking, twisting his hair between her fingers. **Squid's prompt did ask for porn that knocked the Doctor's socks off. Her sock is knocked, off.**

*** * ***

**Remember - small pause because she's had a little snooze.**  
The Master is the one watching her when she comes back to herself. He’s the one stroking her hair, moving the blankets up over her shaking legs, straightening the pillow. **She specifies it's him; it's the Master taking on this caring role, keeping her warm and comfortable because he cares, this is a place where there needs to be trust.**  
  
“I don’t want to stop,” she says, and watches him raise his eyebrows. “I never said I wanted to stop.”  
  
“Okay,” he whispers. “And can I be me?” **Originally here, she was going to shake her head and apologise, but I kind of like her being reluctant to tell him because this needs to be a safe place, where there's trust, and she can't get that if he's disappointed.**  
She thinks, and pushes herself up on one elbow and kisses him deeply, and she can taste herself on his mouth. He kisses her back, hard and wanting. The Master slides his hand between her legs, slicks his fingers with the mess there, slips one inside her, then another. She makes a soft noise, lies on her back again as he leans over her, his broad shoulders reminding her of the physical advantage he has over her this time.  
  
The Master’s got three fingers inside her and his thumb on her clit and she’s writhing beneath him when he suddenly stops moving, his hair falling over his forehead. **So unlike just before when his hair is falling in his eyes, this is meant to show the Master fully resurfacing as himself, and it's meant to have a sense of shame and disappointment.**  
  
“You don’t want me to be me, do you?” he says. **I'm bloody chuffed a few people picked out this line in their comments, I was very happy with it.**  
  
“You’ve got me in an awkward position,” she replies. “Little bit vulnerable.” **Yeah so we never said they had a Healthy relationship, and this is - a spot they shouldn't have ended up in, as the Doctor should have just told him, or he should have stopped and asked earlier, but they both want this to work, and they both want to be here, so they push on when they shouldn't. Like. He's got his fingers in her vagina, she's very vulnerable.**  
  
“Hm.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“ _Doctor_ ,” he says, and she’s not sure who kisses her then. **No one is sure. As discussed later in the fic (and this was in Squid's original prompt), something can't come from nothing, and what O is, is made up of tiny bits of the Master. And tiny bits of the Master are made up of the young man he once was on Gallifrey (Koschei, which I deliberately didn't say in this fic, sorry Squid, it's a word of Power that should be carefully deployed). So it's up to you. It's the Master, it's O, it's Koschei. To me, the Master himself isn't sure; it's mostly him but he's not conscious within himself in that moment; as I said earlier the Doctor is his alpha and omega when it comes to - oh God, what if people thought I meant it in a ABO context, I didn't, that is not my tempo - the Doctor is his alpha and omega when it comes to love, and he isn't doing anything right now but trying his best to show how much he loves her. Who loves the Doctor best? O, The Master or Koschei? He just wants her, and he didn't mean to make her feel vulnerable. He'd hurt her, for sure, but not here.**

 **Never said it was a healthy relationship.**  
  
He sits up and moves aside, and she shuffles across the mattress to face him, cups his face and kisses him softly. She moves, sliding up into his lap and carefully moving over his cock. She takes it in her hand and carefully guides herself onto him, letting out a small moan as he massages the back of her neck, her clit to make it easier. It’s a stretch, but it’s a good sensation, and after a moment, he’s fully inside her and she leans against his chest, pressing their foreheads together. 

**For the next sequence, because she's not quite sure who he is, and the Master's not quite sure either, in himself, and that's reflected in that there's only he/she pronouns until the Doctor names O as the man she wants to be with in this moment. Why? Well if you feel bad for the Master, remember. He's a bitch.**  
  
“Hi,” she says, and lets out a breath.  
  
He chuckles. “Hi.”  
  
“Hey.”  
  
“Hi.”  
  
The only sound is their breath, their hearts beating.   
  
“Are you ready?” he asks.   
  
She’s still not sure who’s asking, so instead she presses their lips together and shifts in his lap, getting used to the sensation.   
  
“Do you like it?”  
  
“It’s nice. It’s different,” she says, and gasps when the angle changes, hits somewhere very good.”It’s unusual.” [**Sorry, Aussies.** ](https://bradshawsapprentice.wordpress.com/2014/10/08/its-noice-its-different-its-unusual/)  
  
He chuckles, rubs her thighs. “You feel really, really good. Perfect.”  
  
“You always say that.” **So in this line, it's kind of like....is this the Master she's talking to/about? Because it implies a lot of familiarity with each other's bodies, but I left it ambiguous.**  
  
He cants his hips forward and back, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders, and they begin to move together. There’s a lot of gasping and whispered swear words, and he bites her shoulder to keep himself under control as the Doctor’s body gets used to his again.  
  
“You don’t have to be gentle,” she says. “It feels - really….really, really good.”  
  
He kisses her neck, lowers her onto the mattress. She wraps her legs around his waist, remembering she always liked that when Missy did it for her, and the - **the, as in the Master? Yes, and he reads that on the front of her mind, which is why he says -**  
  
“Doctor?”  
  
“Mm?” **He's hoping she'll reply with "Master" or something, but no. She's just like. This is good dick, the dick is good. Hence his next word,**  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
He moves, and slides back into her, and he’s thick and hard and it feels -   
  
“Wonderful. You’re wonderful, O,” she says, and he ducks his head, smiles at her. **The Master Is Dying Inside, and the head duck isn't to be cute, it's so he doesn't have to show his face, which is D: in this moment. He's still got a boner though. It's like, the minute the Doctor terms him O, he knows Exactly who he is in that moment, which is the Master, who is a bitch, but also dying inside. So, he gives her O.** “No, look at me, I want to see you.” **"I want to see you," she wants to see O, the Master continues to Die Inside. She's not meaning to hurt him; she's earned the right to be selfish. The Doctor can have a little bit of neglecting her sexual partner's feelings. As a treat.**  
  
“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” he says, **from memory, this is a very early line, I cribbed it from something similar O says in the episode,** and begins to move his hips slowly, rolling into her as she gasps. “You feel amazing.”  
  
He fucks her slowly at first, learning the sensation just as she learns it too, his hands warm and secure on her waist, his thumbs rubbing at the blades of her hips. **Blades, reminds us of knives, there's always a little violence here, even here, between them.** He shifts slowly, changing the angle, and then gets a strange look on his face.  
  
“I think I like it there,” he says, and chuckles, and his hair falls into his eyes. **The closer they get to wild fucking, the harder it is for the Master to hold himself in check.** “I think I really like it.”  
  
“Well, off you go,” says the Doctor, reaching down to his hip. She pulls him into her, harder. “I think I’d like that, too.”  
  
He leans down, kisses her deeply. The Doctor reciprocates, biting at his mouth until O thrusts into her with a grunt, and concentrates on the task at hand. He fucks her hard, at a steady rate **sex scenes are sometimes just...."when can I use the word thrust appropriately"** (which is….very O, now she’s remembering), his cheek beside her cheek, **cheeeeeek to cheeeeeek, so intimaaaaate,** his stubble rubbing at her skin. It should annoy her, but it’s comforting, and keeps her grounded as each thrust threatens to steal her breath away.  
  
“You are - “ he murmurs, and then says something she can’t catch. He keeps saying it, tucking his face into her neck, repeating the phrase. **He's saying I love you or you're special to me. It's in Gallifreyan. She's so tuned out she can't pick up on it, because humans can't speak Gallifreyan. To me, and we all know I love complex Gallifreyan words and phrases, the "you're special to me/I love you" he's saying means, _I love you, I adore you, I treasure you, I burn for you, I've killed for you and I'll do it again,_ and he's saying it over and over and over again like a mantra. And, "I burn for you" in both senses of the word. He's just saying these words right into her neck, into her throat and her blood ya know? Ya. **  
  
O moves his hand between their bodies, rubs her clit roughly in time to his thrusts, which makes her moan. She twitches, and O growls, moves over her and begins to fuck her harder, faster until the breath is stolen from her lungs and her hips are rising to meet his. **So this is the Master coming through more, the hotter and harder it gets, the harder it gets for him to maintain the facade, the.....iron mask.** She trails her hands up and down his muscled back (O works out, it’s a stress-relief thing, but he just can’t shift his tummy - **TUMMY RIGHTS FOR THE MASTER** ) and feels his broad shoulders shifting, and then, he stops. **He's got such broad shoulders!**  
  
“Wait,” he says suddenly, buried in her. “Wait.”  
  
She looks up at him. “What is it?”  
  
“Do I need - “ he shifts, and lets out a breath, closing his eyes. **He's acting here, asking this question, and this is the dumbest most human thing he can think of. He's a terrific actor. You can't be good at playing human if you don't study them.** “You feel so good. **That's not acting.** Um. Um, do I need a condom? Do you have, um - ” The Doctor finds herself laughing, and O gets a very funny expression as he feels her internal muscles shifting. “I’ll take that as a no?”

 **Sidenote: Some fics with 12/Missy, or 13/Dhawan!Master, or any iteration of the Doctors and Masters where their genders are mixed, have them use condoms. I enjoy that touch of realism in those. I do not have them in my own fics because I love my little old headcanon about Time Lords having a little bit of mental pull over their reproductive facilities. That, and the Doctor and the Master have been vaccinated for the Gallifreyan Syphillis. The Kasterborous Clap.**  
  
“Well, there was a week and a half where I thought I was half-human, but no. You don’t need one,” she says, and O leans down, presses their lips together. “Mm. Ribbed for her pleasure.” **Really struggled over whether to put that last bit in. It made me laugh, so.**  
  
He shifts, pressing their foreheads together and they begin to move again, the Doctor’s hips rising to meet his thrusts. O shifts one hand, grabs her arse, squeezes it. His speed increases, drawing a moan from her lips, and he responds. He moves so his lips are against her ear. **~intimacy~**  
  
“I want to see you properly,” he says, and then pulls out of her. **He also stops because he realises he's not - going to be in control of himself if they do it like this, and he doesn't want to hurt her, either physically, or by dropping the facade.**  
  
The Doctor groans, feeling suddenly empty, deflated. She hadn’t realised how close she was to coming. **Tbh, best kind of orgasm.** O rolls onto his back, his cock flushed and slick with his and her come, and she watches as his chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath.   
  
“Do you want to ride my cock, Doctor?” he asks, and that’s not O, but it’s not quite the Master yet, and it’s enough for her. **The Master's getting himself back under control, hence that blurred line.**  
  
She’s almost got tunnel vision with how much she wants him, and she sits, her legs shaking, and moves and straddles his cock, sliding onto it like it’s made for her.   
  
“It is,” the Master says, **and she KNOWS it's the Master here because he's read her mind and is replying to that little comment she made about his dick being made for her** his hands hot and heavy on her hips, and he thrusts up into her and it makes her shout. “Okay?” **"Was that a good shout or a bad shout?" basically.**

  
“Oh, fucking hell, it’s more than okay,” says the Doctor, and she shifts in his lap, trying to repeat the sensation. “Oh, O - “ **We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming of the Master Dying Inside.**  
  
She’s not been in this position for a very long time, but it’s something innate, **ah, instinct, the porn writer's get out of writing more references to stretching trick,** and she finds herself moving herself on his cock, hot and hard and throbbing inside her, as the Master meets her in the middle, pushing up into her, guiding her with his thumbs on the blades of her hips. **The Master's back here, and there's blades again, because violence, because fragility.** There’s a few intense minutes of sweaty, breathless fucking, where it all comes down to him beneath her and on her and inside her, and it just fits, it just works; he moves one of his hands to her clit and teases it with his fingers.   
  
It makes her cry out his name (and she sees his expression, and if that isn’t the hottest thing she’s ever seen with these eyes, **and if the name is O, the expression is rage, because the Master is full in front here, and if it's Master the expression is - blissed out, as we saw in Spyfall 2 (was that really on a family show? When he started like sobbing? Like, Jesus. Not even in a sexual way it was just Intense) and third, hipster option, if it's Koschei it's just - euphoria, take your pick. To me, she says Master, because of his reaction, and she recognises his moves and his energy but please take it any way you want, that's why I wasn't specific** ) and she says it again, and again, and his free hand comes up to her breasts and teases at her nipples, pinching them and stroking them until she’s thrown her head back and drives herself onto his cock over and over again. Slick with sweat, her body shakes and she cries out, coming but she can’t stop moving against him, she needs to feel his cock inside her.  
  
“Fuck, fuck - “ she says, trembling, her cunt, her skin, her entire body on fire. “Fuck - “  
  
She leans down, pressing her forehead against his, and the Master grabs her face and kisses her roughly, still driving his cock into her, fucking her though she can barely stand it. He grabs her hips again, pulls her down onto his cock so their bodies are flush together, and he comes silently, hot and hard inside her, gasping as he keeps kissing her. He says something, but there’s a buzzing in her ears and she kisses his cheek and tucks her face into his neck so she can smell him and feel him and his pulses and she closes her eyes and the Master rubs her back as she falls asleep.

**Commentary on sex scenes is often very, and then they fucked, "and then, I wrote that they fucked" so this was quite fun to annotate because of all the yum character stuff. Thanks for the prompt, Squid. Further, I love a face-neck tuck. Missy does it to 12 a lot in my fics because she's smaller. It's vulnerable because the Doctor's hiding her face in the Master's neck, but the Master's also vulnerable because there's some very important veins in necks, AND as said earlier/is widely held fanon, Time Lord's have like, a Thing for necks. Say neck again. Neck.**

  
*** * ***

**Little gap for little snooze.**  
She wakes up, and for the second time that day, the Master is there, but this time he’s in her bed, and this time he’s the one passed out. Even as she watches, he turns, from facing her, to flopping on to his back. He snuffles, his mouth slack and hair mussed. His face is relaxed, and there’s something of O in that too, somewhere around the softness of his closed eyes and the dark curl of his eyelashes against his cheeks. He tailor-makes them with her in mind. Not the eyelashes. As clever as they both are, neither of them can create something entirely out of nothing. **So yeah, this is the crux of the argument: O is a creation of the Master, but he's made him out of bits of himself. Everything O (and Yana, to go back) is, is what the Master is capable, or was once capable, of being.**  
  
Her entire body sore, the Doctor props herself up on one elbow, reaches down and finds the blanket where it’s been kicked down the foot of the bed. She leans across the Master and makes sure he’s tucked in, **so this is her reciprocating the caring act he did for her earlier,** and then settles back down on the mattress, drawing the other half of the blanket over herself. She rolls onto her side to face the wall, and falls into a doze. 

*** * ***

**Big gap for big snooze. Originally there was no gap here, and the Master didn't let her drop off, but I realised both of them probably needed time to process the last couple of hours, and then the last couple of millennia.**  
She starts awake though when the Master runs one knuckle across her shoulder blades. **Blades! Violence and vulnerability! Knuckles! Punching! Remember they're both naked!** She turns back to face him, and he blinks sleepily across at her. He smiles, and there’s something in it that’s two-thousand years old and familiar to her, but unrecognisable. **And that's Koschei, and to get Very Wank and quote myself [this is Missy talking to the Doctor, about what he is to her, but it's the energy I wanted to convey]: "** _ **[My first friend, and my best friend,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11303730)" she says. The Doctor smiles into her palm. "The boy who tried to kiss me and missed. The boy who swore we'd go and see the stars together, one day. But always, first and foremost, my friend."**_

She raises her eyebrows at him, unsure if she has the energy to talk. The Master opens his mouth, closes it, gives in and asks. **Because he's Dead Inside.**  
  
“Did you love him?” he says quietly, his voice hoarse.  
  
“I think so. A little,” the Doctor replies. **Only a little; she only met him twice, remember.** “I always love them **[humans]** , a little. You should love more. It’s good for you.” **This fits with the whole, the Doctor: I'd be a coward, any day, the Doctor [refuses to destroy what's left of Gallifrey].**

 **Love strongly, love always, love much, be kind. Even if it hurts, love is good and powerful. ~~Live love laugh and all that.~~**  
  
At that, the Master sighs quietly. **If she always loves them, why can't she love him?** He rolls over again, turning his back on her and settling back into sleep. Suddenly cold, **she's realised she's fucked up, and if it was the O RP, or just that convo, it's chilled her and she's worried,** the Doctor draws herself across the mattress and presses her naked torso to his bare back, sliding her arm around his waist. The Master threads their fingers together, mumbles something. He squeezes her hand. She squeezes back, feeling her eyes sliding shut.   
  
“I’m still not sorry,” he says. **About Gallifrey.**  
  
“I know.”  
  
“They hurt you. Over, and over, and over — “ **Okay. So the Timeless Children. In Spyfall, he's like "Someone destroyed Gallifrey, lol it was me, once I found out what it was. I didn't do it for me." So the implication it was for someone else, and then all us sad little shippers were like "i didn't do it for me....i did it for you? for us?" And I get maybe he was trying to save face in the Timeless Children with like "your DNA is in me, in all of us, and I usually only like that when you've stuck your dick in me, this regeneration thing is Too Far and it disgusts me" and also, "you always acted special but I thought you were just a tit at school but you were special" but I _cannot_ help but read his destruction of Gallifrey as a sort of revenge a) just for their society being built on the torture of a child, any child but also b) that child would grow into the absolute love of his life. Like he has obsessed over this for decades, by himself. And it's also like. "They tortured you. They killed you a thousand times, and so I killed them and you see my actions as wrong? I love you, I love you."**  
  
“I know. You’ve hurt me, too.” **The Doctor is so valid though because the Master is a Bitch.**  
  
He releases her hand and turns over, so they’re face to face. He loops his arm around her waist and pulls her flush against him, chest to chest, tucking her head under his chin. **In this, it's like - "we're not going to agree on this, and I'm not going to apologise, but I want you here for this time we have right now," and the Doctor feels the same way.** She noses into his neck, breathes in his familiar smell. **Again, vulnerability on both sides.** He always smells the same (how did she not notice?). **The Master, as O, slathering on the Lynx/Axe bodyspray: "there was no other way to hide it."**  
  
“Is it really that good for you? **Love. He's referring to her "you should love more." I probably should have made that more clear, and for that I apologise.** Look what it made me do,” the Master murmurs into her hair. **This has slightly abusive undertones, and i was a bit wavery on the phrasing, but to him, he destroyed Gallifrey because they hurt her. They hurt a child, and that child was the Doctor, a thousand times over, and look what love made him do. I read[a great fic once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5047054/chapters/11605282), by nostalgia, who is one of my favey fic writers of the old school (and thankfully they're still active) and there's this fantastic, sick closing line, so if you're gonna read the fic stop here, but the closing line is, wait, hang on..**

****

**Okay, so the closing line is Missy talking to hers and the Doctor's son as the Doctor is off wreaking havoc on the Daleks for kidnapping them, and the closing line is _"Missy stroked his [their son's] hair gently. “Don't worry, my darling, they won't bother us again.” She smiled. “Daddy's gone a-hunting.”"_**

**And damn nostalgia and I have different writing styles but fuck I love the twisty femininity she gives to Missy with that fic and that line. [chef's kiss]. Anyway. When I wrote "is it really that good for you? Look what it made me do?" that's the line I was thinking about, for some reason. Daddy's gone a-hunting.  
**

  
  
“You made O,” she says. **And O is the good bits of the Master, blah blah blah.**  
  
“Hm.”  
  
“You’ve made good things, with love. You’ve made music, I’ve heard you play for me.” **Oh Missy you're so fine, you're so fine you get dicked down on the piano.** The Doctor waits. “You made - “ now, this is the true test. “You made your daughter, didn’t you?” **Never know how much to put the daughter in. I might have been too light on the sprinkles, in retrospect, but here it is. I've discussed this elsewhere, somewhere, but it's like. Love creates. Like the guy who invented rubber gloves for his wife because she was a nurse and her hands were really sore from the soap. "He loved her to the point of invention."**

 **Music can come from love, and art can come from love, and really, even though it was rough and sweaty, what the Master just did for the Doctor came from love, and on Gallifrey, children come from love. "So, Master," the Doctor is saying. "Remember, you've loved more than me. You loved her, you kept that brooch." In my mind, the Doctor has Missy's brooch still (she'd be able to use it to break out of the Vault). She'll give it back one day.**  
  
There’s a long moment when the Master doesn’t move, **he's a little emotional,** and then he kisses the top of her head, rubs the nape of her neck. “Go to sleep, Doctor. You need rest.”

 **As I referenced earlier, the ex forgot the Master has a daughter, but I WILL NEVER FORGET, and I see Missy as mentioning her to Clara as like a little...moment that properly announced her as a version of the Master who didn't bring about the apocalypse every time she appeared ala RTD's use of Simm!Master. Like, ta-dah, not only do the Doctor and Missy have a past, but Missy also has her own past. I have to believe she and the Doc discussed her daughter, and that Clara mentioned that Missy said she had a daughter to the Doctor, and so this is like the Doctor being like "all your progress as Missy is clearly gone, but how far back have you fallen? Do you remember what good things you've been capable of?" But it is SUCH a sensitive topic they both have to be completely naked, prone, they've been physically intimate, mentally linked, and still she can barely even brush up against the topic before he shuts her down.**  
  
“Hey - ”  
  
“I don't want to talk about this. I'd like to sleep. We'll talk about it when we wake up."

"Okay." (They won't, and they both know this). **Brackets, to stylistically tie us back to the bracket-peppered beginning. I don't know why I have Thirteen with brackets. She just loves to talk to herself.**

Regardless. She closes her eyes. **And, she sleeps, and it's the biggest gap of all. It is meant to leave you a little off-balance, and for that I apologise, but I'm trying something new. It's nice. It's different. It's unusual. And that's it, really.  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that's it! Thanks again to Squid for requesting such an awesome prompt and requesting a DVD commentary too so I could just wank prosaically about writing and only feel slightly up myself. I hope you all enjoyed! Thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks to craftysquidz for requesting such an interesting idea. I'll explain the title one day. 
> 
> Comments and feedback are always appreciated!


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